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Even Worth
No one would ever call him handsome, not really. He wasn’t overly tall, nor lean by nature. His shoulders were wide and his frame meant for more weight than he had—too few regular meals and long addiction had robbed him of fat. At some point, his nose had been broken and something had left a scar slashing his right eyebrow—a thin slice of pale skin. He was too pale to be fair, with a shock of yellow hair and no real color to his cheeks. His eyes were dark though, brown and shadowed, deep set and never still. He watched the world with the wariness of a starving lion. When he was still, when he was focused, his stare was unnerving, a predator waiting for the prey to run. He dressed well for his look, monochrome and subdued, but well cut, layered. The leather jacket was no thug’s coat, but soft to the touch, smoothing the harsh lines of his shoulders. No denim, but dark slacks, no fancy shoes but steel toe cowboy boots. The scarred skin of his hands was hidden by gloves, leather in winter, cotton in heat. There was nothing about him to suggest weapons, no bulges or visible holsters. But there was something in the way he moved, in the way he didn’t move. When he was still, he was absolutely still, chest barely rising and falling with breath, eyes unblinking, watching, scanning, taking in detail. But when he moved, he knew exactly where he was in the world, liquid grace and sure speed. Weapons blossomed with a magician’s touch. There were no horsemen, he had no pale horse. But there was death, sure enough. Canon information Born in New York City and quickly given up as Baby Boy Green, he was adopted and kicked around the foster care system until he was old enough to find a place in the local gangs in Memphis. From there, he earned a reputation as a damn decent hitman, wandering the South hiring out as a gun. He picked up a drug habit and fell in love with the wrong woman. From the former he found some semblance of peace, from the later he earned two bullets to the chest and six months in a hospital. It wasn’t much to find her and kill her, but the cops have a nasty way of interrupting murder-suicides when you’re one of the better known contract killers and you’re working off vengeance instead of using your brains. Life in prison would have changed him, that’s for sure, if he hadn’t meant a con man with a plan. An escape plan. That landed him in Illinois, on a small villa owned by the biggest Mafioso in the state. The scam was supposed to be simple; he’d play the muscle, Ranger’d do the con, and they’d be walking away with twenty million before anyone knew what had happened. Except for her, the right woman, the glue that was supposed to hold his pieces together. The con went wrong, wrong, and he ended up on the run with her, which was all right, right? Having most of the mafia after you isn’t an easy thing, not when you’ve got their darling. But this time, he’d fallen in love with the right woman, and she wasn’t going to let him die. To save him, she left him to go back to her fiancé and her perfect world, not realizing how much he needed her, how broken he really was. Elegante You are here. Relationships Kage: Really Gay for Other Stuff App Category:Characters Category:OCs Category:Dysfunctional Worth Family